


Lemons For Aurelia

by the_lion_the_witch_and_the_werewolf



Category: Roman Mysteries (TV), The Roman Mysteries - Caroline Lawrence
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-06-10 00:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15279684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_lion_the_witch_and_the_werewolf/pseuds/the_lion_the_witch_and_the_werewolf
Summary: "Are you doing this intentionally to provoke me?""Not intentionally, but it's always an added bonus."***When Aurelia runs away from her uneventful life in Rome to live with her brother-in-law, she does not know what she is walking into. All she knows is that it is better than what she left behind. However, with a little help from the mysterious doctor who lives next door, and four children who never give up, Aurelia finds that sometimes true happiness is worth a little sacrifice.





	1. SCROLL I

Rome was hot in the summer. Too hot, in fact, for Aurelia’s liking. She sighed and fanned herself with a spare scrap of parchment, staring out onto the street from the window of her father’s study.

Nothing was happening – nothing interesting ever happened on the Aventine. The most exciting thing Aurelia ever saw as she people-watched were the lovers of lonely senator’s wives scurrying home in the mid-afternoon, dashing to get away before the husbands returned from work. Occasionally a stray dog may pass by.

It was even more boring in June, when all the senatorial families were in their seaside villas in Baiae, meaning Aurelia couldn’t even go and visit batty old Pollia next door to escape from the prying eyes of her housekeeper.  _Oh, if only I was going with them_ , she thought to herself, sighing. It wasn’t that she particularly wanted to go to Baiae – it was a seedy place, in truth – but she would give  _anything_  to get away from Rome. Away from all the people…

She looked down at the letter she was writing, or rather, her fifth attempt at it. Was she insane? Would Marcus really take her in? She felt guilty going behind her father’s back, but it was worth a try, she concluded, hastily signing her name. Even if he only relented because she was his sister-in-law, it was better than spending one more day in this house.

She quickly folded the parchment, and began to seal it. She glanced out of the window again as she pressed her signet ring into the melted red wax, her stomach tying itself into knots. She knew her father wouldn’t be home for at least another four hours, but it didn’t stop her jumping at every litter that passed.

The wax was dry. “Avis!”

A tall, slender slave-girl with dark hair and almond-shaped eyes padded softly into the room. Aurelia didn’t question why Avis had been so close by – she was simply relieved to see her, whether she was spying or not.

“Ah, there you are – please have one of the messengers send this to a Marcus Flavius Geminus in Ostia. Green Fountain Street I believe, but if he gets lost, tell him to ask at the docks.”

Avis nodded silently, taking the letter in her long, elegant fingers and turning towards the door.

“Oh, and Avis?”

The slave-girl paused.

“Pick the two most trustworthy messengers we have. Not a word to  _pater_ , of course.”

If Avis was concerned by Aurelia’s erratic behaviour, she didn’t show it. “Of course,  _domina_ ,” she replied smoothly, bowing out of the room. Aurelia waited until she had turned the corner to let out a small breath of relief. She stood up at once and took one last look at the boring Aventine street before fleeing the crime scene, back to her own quarters.

***

“Marcella Aurelia!”

Aurelia groaned, rolling over onto her stomach and sighing heavily. Was it too much to ask that she finish her Ovid in peace?

“Yes, pater?”

As soon as the words had left her lips, Titus Marcellus Aurelius had limped into the room, his brow furrowed, dark eyes disappointedly looking down his strong, aquiline nose at her. Aurelia smiled.

“What is it,  _pater_?” she asked again, sitting up straight now and setting her scroll aside.  _Had he discovered the letter? How?_  She could feel the butterflies in her stomach, though she tried to ignore them. “Have you lost something?”

“Yes, in fact,” he replied dryly, leaning on his cane. “My daughter appears to be missing from a party that I  _specifically hosted_   _for her_. Any ideas as to where she might be?”

Aurelia shrugged innocently, a twinkle in her eye as relief flooded over her. “Have you tried the kitchens?”

Her father sighed himself, making his way over to a nearby chair. Aurelia immediately rushed to her feet, attempting to help him, but he brushed her aid aside. It was slightly painful to watch as he levered himself into the seat, but he succeeded. Aurelia settled herself at his feet, legs crossed.

“I’m sorry,  _pater_ ,” she said. He could tell she was being genuine. “I just detest these sorts of things, and you know that!”

“Yes,  _cupita_ ,” he said tersely, running a hand through his white, thinning hair. “But I do not throw them for you to enjoy; you are supposed to make use of them! All the men downstairs are respectable suitors and would make respectable husbands, if only you would choose one. Instead you hide upstairs in your room, reading –” He picked up her scroll, and briefly read a few lines. His face fell. “– Ovid. By Jupiter, you’ll read about such things, but won’t pursue them!”

Aurelia supressed a small smile. “Ovid talks about  _love_ ,  _pater_. Not the senate, which I fear is all the men downstairs are good for.”

Her father raised an eyebrow. “So you would throw away a senator for a poet?”

“I would throw away a thousand senators for a man who loves me,” she said solemnly, causing Titus to groan. “Is that so wrong?”

“Yes!” he cried, exasperated. “Marriage is not about love! Marriage is about connections!”

Aurelia laughed in disbelief. “Oh really? Then what about  _mater_? She didn’t have many connections that I recall…”  
Titus frowned. “Yes, well, she was my  _second_  wife. Your sisters’ mother brought the connections.”

“So I have to wait until my first husband dies?”

“Either that or choose a military man and hope that the emperor sends him away to some province, giving you the opportunity to partake in numerous illustrious affairs.”

Aurelia shook her head at that. “Well, that’s not what  _I_ want from a marriage. I’d like to get what you and  _mater_  had on the  _first_  attempt.”

Titus sighed again, but it had a sadder tone to it this time. “Oh,  _cupita_. I wish that for you too, but how will you find that if you won’t even talk to any men? How do you think Cornelia found Cornix? The number of these sorts of parties I have had to organise, I can’t begin to tell you.”

There was a short pause whilst Aurelia considered this.

“Well, perhaps I’ll go downstairs for a few moments,” Aurelia conceded, unable to disappoint her father. “But don’t be surprised if nothing comes of it. Also, don’t be surprised if I poison Publius’ wine.”

It was what her father had been desperate to hear, and he smiled in relief, ruffling her hair gently. “I promise that if Publius dies, I will take the blame – if anyone’s that concerned, that is.”

***

Aurelia shivered in the cool night air, pulling her shawl closer around her shoulders. Her father was busy bidding her suitors farewell as they took off to their own homes on the Aventine. This left her free to wander into the courtyard, sit on a stone bench hidden from view by several ferns, and stare up at the stars. She found it calming, much more calming that the heat and noise of Rome in the day.

It was whilst she was considering all of this that her father spotted his daughter and made his way towards the bench, having dispatched the now slightly disgruntled senators’ sons. He eased himself into the space next to her and shook his head, considering how quickly Aurelia had grown. It seemed as though only a few years ago she had sat on his lap whilst he was sifting through his business papers, chirping in with her opinions every now and then. And yet, here she was, fast approaching twenty-two, and beyond ready for marriage, if only he could find a match for her that she didn’t treat with distain.

“A lovely evening,” he said eventually, breaking the stillness of the night.

She nodded absent-mindedly. “Yes…”

Titus frowned. “Is something bothering you,  _cupita_?” he asked gently, turning his head slightly so that he could see her dirty blonde curls out of the corner of his eye.

“How exactly did Myrtilla meet Marcus?”

Her father took a deep breath – Myrtilla had been dead for eight years, but the wound was still raw. “I believe they met in Ostia. Your sister was visiting friends, and they went shopping in the market. Marcus was there…  _trading_.” This was said not without a hint of disapproval. “Of course, I advised against the match, but Myrtilla was persistent – and despite his class, he was a sensible young man. It seemed foolish to break them apart when they were both so devoted.”

Aurelia smiled despite herself. “I can remember the wedding – I would have been about ten, I suppose?”

Her father nodded. “Around ten, yes. Goodness, it seems like only yesterday.”

Aurelia reached out and placed a gentle hand on her father’s arm. She knew that he hated to think of how much time had passed, not least because it reminded him of how long her mother and sister had been gone. He rested his own hand on top of hers and squeezed gently.

“Ah, but what a wonderful young woman you have grown into, hmm?” he said lightly. “A father couldn’t ask for much more.”

Aurelia shook her head, gazing out into the middle distance. “I think you’re too kind. I’ll never be Myrtilla.”

Titus shot her a concerned look, eyes narrowed. “No, but that is not a bad thing. You are unique to yourself.” He watched as she pondered this quietly for a moment. “Are you sure there is nothing wrong,  _cupita_? It is not like you to be so… despondent.”

Aurelia took a deep breath, considering the best way to broach the subject. She was desperate not to hurt her father. “ _Pater_ , I… I think I should leave Rome for a little while.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from where Titus was sat, but he didn’t pull his hand away, which Aurelia took as a good sign. “Leave Rome? For what reason? This is your home. You’ve never spend more than a night away from it!”

“I know,  _pater_ , but I…” Her voice faltered as she tried to think of the right words. “I think I need to get away… to clear my head.” She paused, her mouth dry with anticipation. “I’ve asked Marcus if I might stay with him for a while.”

Titus remained silent. Aurelia continued, speaking slightly louder in order to mask her nerves.

“It’s the perfect place to get away from all the suitors for now, and then, perhaps, upon my return I would be in the right frame of mind to pick one. It would also be nice to see Flavia again – she’s gotten so big,” she added quickly, eager to pull on her father’s heartstrings.

Again, Titus didn’t say anything. For a moment, Aurelia wondered whether she might have dreadfully upset him, but finally he spoke, his voice measured.

“The last time I sent a daughter to Ostia, she never came back,” he said quietly, his dark eyes guarded. “I’m not sure I could face losing another.”

Aurelia’s heart pinched uncomfortably. “Oh,  _pater_ , you know I could never abandon you to live in this big old house alone! I’ll be back before the summer’s ended, I’m sure. Besides, you’ll still have Cornelia to keep you company. And Cornix!”

Titus grimaced. “Ah, yes. Cornix. How lovely.”

Aurelia couldn’t help but snigger at that, and her father smiled for the first time since she had mentioned leaving. He worried his signet ring, twisting it back and forth.

“I will allow it,  _cupita_ ,” he said at last. Aurelia let out a long breath of relief. “But only on the condition that when you  _do_  return to Rome at the end of the summer, if you have not come to a conclusion over which suitor to marry, then I shall choose for you.”

Aurelia did not like that. Even though she doubted her father could or would truly force her into a marriage she did not wish for, the threat was enough to scare her. Still, there was a feeling in the depth of her stomach that she should go to Ostia, so she relented.

“Fine – though it  _can’t_  be Publius.”

Titus rolled his eyes, patting her hand gently. “Don’t you worry – no future sons-in-law of mine are allowed to be more obnoxious than Cornix. Imagine.”

***

“Are you  _sure_  this is a good idea Aurelia?”

Aurelia bit back a sly remark as she heard the question for the tenth time that hour. Cornelia wasn’t like her sisters or father, and couldn’t take any teasing, however gentle.

“I am certain, Cornelia. And Marcus thinks it’s a good idea too, so I shan’t be imposing myself on him.”

Cornelia bit her lip as she paced around her sister’s bedroom. “That’s what concerns me most. Why is he so anxious to have you? What is he trying to achieve?”

Aurelia frowned, waving away her  _ancilla_  as the girl tried to pack a woollen  _stola_. “Not that one, Avis – I’ll only be there for the summer.”

“But  _domina_ , the sea-breeze…”

“Worst comes to worst, I’ll buy one!” Aurelia assured her. The  _ancilla_  inclined her head, though she did not seem convinced, and returned the  _stola_  to the closet. Aurelia turned back to Cornelia, who was doing her best to wear a hole in the wooden floor. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

“I  _mean_ ,” said Cornelia pointedly, her eyes wide with suggestion, “that don’t you find it a little strange?”

Aurelia gave her an odd look. “What? An aunt visiting her niece and brother-in-law?”

“ _No_. A young woman going to spend three months with an unmarried man,  _without_   _supervision_.”

“Oh, honestly Cornelia!” said Aurelia in disgust, whacking her sister on the arm with a tunic she was in the process of packing. “Get your mind out of the gutter! He’s my brother-in-law! We’re family! Don’t be so crude.”

Cornelia crossed her arms in indignation. “You’re saying that you don’t find it strange that Marcus never remarried?”

“No, I do not! – thank you, Avis – He loved Myrtilla. Why should he remarry?”

“To provide a mother figure for Flavia?” replied Cornelia, perching on the edge of Aurelia’s bed, sniffing haughtily. “She must be quite strange, growing up with just Marcus for guidance. How will he deal with her  _women’s problems_?”

“Well, that’s what Alma is for. And what’s so different about Flavia having only Marcus and I having only  _pater_?”

Cornelia blinked rapidly. “Honestly, Aurelia, there’s a – there’s a  _world_  of difference –”

“Really?” said Aurelia lightly. She caught Avis’ eye as the  _ancilla_  handed her a scroll, and they shared a moment of contempt for Cornelia. The older woman was sweet at heart, but incredibly small-minded. “I see no difference. But either way, best leave that subject for now, before  _pater_  returns – you know it will only upset him.”

Cornelia, it seemed however, was unable to let it go. “Another reason you shouldn’t leave – just think about poor  _pater_!”

“ _Pater_  will survive!” said Aurelia, as Avis closed her trunk. She was all packed and ready to go, as soon as Quintus arrived to carry her luggage to the coach. “He has you and Cornix, and I shall write frequently.”

“Yes, but it won’t be the same.  _Pater_  has never let you out of his sight for more than a minute after what happened to your mother. What will he do without you?”

Aurelia raised an eyebrow. “Get a moment’s peace, perhaps? I don’t know, Cornelia, in truth, but it will be good for both of us to get a little breathing space. He needs to get used to living alone anyway – I won’t be living with him once I’m married.”

It seemed her sister didn’t have an answer to that, and she fell quiet, scowling to herself. A soft knock on the door announced the arrival of Quintus, and Avis rushed to let the coachman in. He bowed to the two sisters. “Are you ready,  _domina_?”

“Yes, Quintus,” said Aurelia kindly, quickly fastening her  _bulla_  behind her neck and smiling at the coachman. “We’ll follow you on.”

Quintus nodded and dutifully picked up her trunk, leading the way through the beautiful balconies and colonnades of Titus’ Roman townhouse to the street outside, where the paterfamilias himself was waiting for them. Aurelia gave one last, wistful glance at the inner garden before the front doors closed behind her and she turned to smile at her father. Titus smiled back, though it was rueful.

“ _Cupita_ ,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on his youngest daughter’s cheek. “Take care of yourself – if you get bored of Marcus, you’re to come straight back. No questions asked.”

Aurelia understood what he was saying, but for some reason it bothered her less than when it had come from Cornelia. “Of course,  _pater_.”

In a rare moment of physical affection, Titus drew her into a bear hug, placing a firm kiss of her forehead. “Come back in one piece, you swear to me?”

“I swear,  _pater_ ,” said Aurelia, her voice wavering more than she would have liked. She would never have guessed how difficult it was to say goodbye. “I swear.”

“Alright then,” said Titus at last, pulling away, a hint of a twinkle in his eye. Cornelia was still skulking behind them. “Here’s to your safe return!”

Aurelia swallowed, unsure as to the reason behind the knot in her stomach.  _The adventure begins._


	2. SCROLL II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are you doing this intentionally to provoke me?"  
> "Not intentionally, but it's always an added bonus."  
> ***  
> When Aurelia runs away from her uneventful life in Rome to live with her brother-in-law, she does not know what she is walking into. All she knows is that it is better than what she left behind. However, with a little help from the mysterious doctor who lives next door, and four children who never give up, Aurelia finds that sometimes true happiness is worth a little sacrifice.

Ostia was not what Aurelia had been expecting. Obviously, she knew that it wouldn’t be as elegant or as… clean as the Aventine. What was more surprising was that it was  _busy_. There were so many people rushing to and fro that she could watch from behind the curtain of her carriage.  _What were they all doing,_ she wondered to herself? What could possibly be so important that they needed to run?

“ _Domina_?”

“Yes?” said Aurelia, jumping slightly at being addressed.

“We’re here.” Avis poked her head through the curtain of the carriage, a tentative look on her face. Aurelia knew the girl was confused, but was resisting the urge to question her mistress.

“Ah. Excellent. Well, I suppose we’d better get going.”

Aurelia took a deep breath and stepped onto the street, immediately almost bowled over by a young slave-boy running past. Quintus made a move to chase after the boy and discipline him, but Aurelia called him back. “He’s just a boy, let him be,” she said under her breath so that only the driver could hear. He nodded.

“I’ll get your bags for you,  _domina_.”

“Thank you. Avis?”

“Yes,  _domina?_ ”

“Do you by any chance know which house we’re looking for?”

In front of the party of three stood two identical front doors. Avis shook her head, shrugging slightly, causing Aurelia to sigh. The older woman took a few minutes to compose herself before swallowing hard and approaching the door on the left. Her hand hovered above the perfectly round door knocker, but with great trepidation she forced herself to use it. There was a few moments of silence, and then the door swung open to reveal–

“Marcus?” Aurelia asked stupidly, although it was obvious that the man standing in front of her was not her brother-in-law. She may have been only ten the last time she had seen him, but she was almost certain that Myrtilla’s husband hadn’t been sporting a turban and long dark-grey ringlets. This stranger was tall, swathed in dark robes, with an angular face and soft, dark eyes that met her own for a brief moment. She quickly looked away, embarrassed at being caught staring. She could swear that she heard Avis snigger slightly behind her, but when she glanced around to check, the slave-girl was straight-faced as always.

“Um… No?” said the man eventually in response, his voice tinged with a heavy accent. His tone was humorous, however. “ _Shalom_  – my name is Mordecai ben Ezra. And you are…?”

“Marcella Aurelia,” she replied primly, trying to force as much authority into her voice as possible to make up for her embarrassment. “Daughter of Senator Titus Marcellus Aurelius.”

The man raised an eyebrow in amusement, though he said nothing. Aurelia’s cheeks flushed pink. “Well, Marcella Aurelia, daughter of Senator Titus Marcellus Aurelius – would you happen to be looking for Marcus Flavius Geminus, sea captain?”

Aurelia blinked rapidly. “He’s my brother-in-law, I’m supposed to be staying with him… How – how did you know that?”

The man did smile this time, though it was small and restrained, and he caught it very quickly. “Intuition. I think you’re looking for the house next door.”

He pointed to the door to Aurelia’s right. Aurelia nodded awkwardly, shooting the man a quick grimace. “Yes. Well. Thank you. We’ll be going now. Come, Avis.”

Avis dutifully followed her mistress. From behind her back, Aurelia heard “ _Shalom”_  and the sound of the door quietly shutting. She let out a quick breath of relief before approaching her brother-in-law’s house and taking the doorknocker in hand. She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity when she noticed that it was in the shape of Castor and Pollux.  _Of course a man named Geminus would live in this house._

It took a good few seconds after knocking for the peephole to slide open. Two dozy eyes peered out. “Who is it?”

“Marcella Aurelia, daughter of Senator Titus Marcellus Aurelius. I’m here to see Marcus.”

The doorman blinked slowly. “One moment.”

His eyes disappeared. Aurelia was not used to this kind of treatment, this sort of  _delay_ , but she supposed it was an essential part of rustic life. A part, she concluded, that she was not impressed by.

After a short while, the heavy plodding of the doorman could be heard, followed by a much more urgent second set of footsteps. Finally, the door was eased open to reveal two men, one of whom Aurelia immediately identified as the man she had spoken to only moments before. He had a kind enough face, but it lacked recognition or much expression at all.

Next to him was a shorter, stockier man with red-ish hair and clear grey eyes. He was tanned – much more tanned than any of the people that Aurelia came into contact with on a daily basis.  _It must be from working on the docks_ , she mused to herself.  _How odd it must be, to stand on a ship all day._

“Marcella,” he said hastily, stepping forward and placing a small kiss on her cheek. He was short of breath, she noticed. Nervous, most likely – it had been years since they had last spoken. “It’s been too long.”

Aurelia shot him a strained smile. “Thank you Marcus, for having me. And please, call me Aurelia – we are brother and sister, after all.”

Marcus looked terrified at the thought. Aurelia knew that after Myrtilla’s death, Cornelia and Cornix had rather disowned him. He wasn’t of  _good_   _stock_ , after all. That was what made this the perfect place for Aurelia to escape.

“Yes, well… shall I show you to your room?” Again, he didn’t look particularly thrilled at the prospect, but he tried to hide his reluctance behind a grimace.

The coach-driver had carried the last of Aurelia’s bag to the doorway. “Shall I carry them through,  _domina_?” he asked.

“No, I – you go home now, Quintus,” she said quickly, trying to think of what was best. “I’m sure Marcus has a strong pair of hands available to take them?”

Marcus nodded, eyeing the bags warily. “Caudex – could you? The bedroom next to mine…”

The sleepy doorman slouched back from wherever he had been hiding and began picking up the bags as easily as though they weighed no more than a feather.

“So I’m supposed to return to Rome now,  _domina_?” asked Quintus.

He seemed very confused that Aurelia was voluntarily opting to remain in Ostia. In fairness, Aurelia was beginning to regret her decision herself – the fact that she would be in the bedroom  _directly next door_  to Marcus suggested that this townhouse was considerably more claustrophobic than her father’s Aventine mansion.

“Yes, Quintus.”

Quintus did not look convinced, but he gave a stiff bow of acceptance before returning to the coach and steering it back into traffic. Aurelia let go of a breath she didn’t even know she had been holding as she watched the dust settle as the horses thundered away, and turned to smile brightly once more at Marcus. “Shall we?”

As though jolted back into motion, Marcus shook his head slightly and stepped back, allowing Aurelia to make her way inside. Avis followed close behind, allowing herself the opportunity to glance around at the townhouse as the party of four made their way upstairs. From the look on her face, Aurelia got the feeling that her slave-girl was less than impressed.

The room that Marcus had prepared for her was nice, even if it was only one room. A bed, a chest, and a vanity with a small mirror. It was…  _quaint._  Aurelia stepped towards the bed and ran her hand over it gently – good quality linen, even if it was a little rough compared to what she was used to. There were two windows on the far wall which looked out onto Green Fountain Street, and Aurelia was immediately overwhelmed once more by all the activity on the street below. For a second she lost herself in the bustle of the town, just watching. Marcus cleared his throat.

“I hope this is to your standards,” he said carefully. “I had Alma make the bed with the best sheets we had to offer…”

Aurelia remembered at this point that she was still mindlessly stroking the bed and quickly stopped. “Honestly, Marcus, this is  _more_  than satisfactory. It’s incredibly kind of you to take me in on such short notice… I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

Marcus looked uncomfortable. “It really is no bother… Your  _ancilla_  can stay with Alma downstairs – just send her there when she’s done unpacking your things. I’ll reintroduce you to Flavia at dinner.”

Aurelia smiled, genuinely this time. “Ah, I can’t wait! The last time I saw her, she couldn’t reach my knees!”

“Yes, well,” said Marcus, a hint of pride creeping into his voice, “she’s quite the young lady now. As are you, I might add… Give her a problem and she’ll solve it to you, just like –”

A shadow crossed over his face.

“Anyway,” he finished quietly as Caudex dropped the bags and retreated to his station by the front door. “I’ll leave you to it. Do let us know if you need anything.”

“I will. Thank you Marcus – I’ll see you at dinner.”

Marcus nodded stiffly before leaving Aurelia and Avis alone. Avis immediately began unpacking Aurelia’s bag for her, but the woman put a restraining hand on the girl’s arm.

“No, Avis – you take a break. I’ll let you know if I need you.”

“But  _domina_ , your clothes –”

“Avis, I admire your dedication, but I promise you,” Aurelia interrupted firmly, “that I am fine. Now please, go find Alma and unpack your own things.”

Avis appeared quite dumbfounded by her mistress’ request, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she gave a meek bow and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Aurelia waited until her footsteps faded away down the corridor before collapsing back onto the bed, sighing heavily.

Despite the cramped nature of Marcus’ house, the proximity of his room, and the fact that she need only look outside the window to know there were hundreds of people nearby at any given moment, at last Aurelia felt as though she were truly alone. Finally she could rest, knowing that there were no suitors around the corner, waiting to catch her unawares. It was oddly peaceful, the solitude.

With another sigh, Aurelia levered herself up again and began to unpack her things. Stolas, tunics, and numerous amounts of sandals all went into the chest, and her jewellery found a place in the vanity, along with various cosmetics. When at last she felt satisfied, she wandered out into the corridor, closing the door behind her, and made her way over to the balcony overlooking the courtyard.

Even Aurelia had to admit that the garden was beautiful. There were fig trees and peach trees, and a central fountain that pulled the entire scene together. She entertained herself by closing her eyes and just listening to the sound of the water, and letting the sea breeze blow small tendrils of her strawberry-blonde curls into her face. That was one thing she already loved about Ostia – the marina meant that it was much cooler than Rome.

“Marcella?”

Aurelia opened her eyes to see Marcus standing below, watching her warily. She smiled, trying to put him at ease.

“Yes, Marcus?”

“Flavia is downstairs in the study, and she’s dying to meet you. I’d have her come to see you, but she’s hurt her leg – she’s in a terrible state, actually, like she’s been dragged through a hedge backwards, but if you don’t mind…”

“Not at all!” said Aurelia quickly standing straight, subtly stretching out her shoulders. “I’ll be down right away.”

Marcus sent her a small smile before heading inside. Aurelia let out a long breath and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.  _Time to make a good impression_.

 

**_***Author's note***_ **

**Okay so I hated this chapter, but hey, it's over and done with. I've rewritten it like five times so I don't think it's getting better. But the next chapter? The next chapter I like so stay tuned! LoonyLoopyLuna xxx**


	3. SCROLL III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are you doing this intentionally to provoke me?"  
> "Not intentionally, but it's always an added bonus."  
> ***  
> When Aurelia runs away from her uneventful life in Rome to live with her brother-in-law, she does not know what she is walking into. All she knows is that it is better than what she left behind. However, with a little help from the mysterious doctor who lives next door, and four children who never give up, Aurelia finds that sometimes true happiness is worth a little sacrifice.

Mordecai knocked on the door. It was a few seconds before the door-slave answered, blinking slowly. He had a kind enough face, but it lacked recognition or much expression at all.

“ _Shalom_ ,” said Mordecai, bowing slightly. The slave’s confusion increased. “My name is Mordecai ben Ezra. I’ve come to check upon Miss Flavia Gemina – I treated her sprained ankle a few days ago. Am I right in thinking she lives here?”

Mordecai was fairly certain he was at the right house, thanks to the Castor and Pollux doorknocker, but he was relieved when the slave nodded.

“I’m afraid,” he said slowly, “that Master Geminus and his daughter are in town right now. You can wait for them if you like – they should be back soon…”

“If that’s not too much trouble.”

The slave stepped aside, and gestured that Mordecai should enter. The older man did so, stepping cautiously into the atrium, taking care to make note of his surroundings. It was an airy space, much like his own next door, but there was a small shrine in the far right-hand corner to the household gods, and two small rooms either sides of the front door – the slaves’ rooms, he assumed.

Mordecai turned back around to find that the door slave was watching him with suspicion. Mordecai knew he was trying to decide whether to trust him or not, but after a while he seemed to decide that he could, and sloped back into his room, although he left the door ajar.

Curious, Mordecai walked over to the household shrine. He rarely had the time to inspect one of these up close. Small figurines of the Roman gods were sat on top of it, along with burnt offerings and some incense. They were so detailed – so important to the Geminus family, he knew.

He suddenly became aware that, drifting through the empty space, was a soft voice humming a haunting tune. His ears strained to hear the words.

“ _Goodnight my sweet one, goodnight my child_ …”

 It was a girl’s voice, high and pure, piercing the silence. Mordecai was drawn to it like a moth to a flame – her soft words called out to him and led him through, without thinking, to the courtyard.

“ _Sleep as I watch over you…_ Scuto! _”_

He caught sight of her hair first: dirty blonde, and shining in faint early morning sunshine as she reclined in the grass. It was the girl who had come to his door yesterday, only she seemed much more relaxed now. She had been reading, he supposed, but the scroll lay abandoned as a big, bouncy dog was completely encompassing her arms. The dog was also animatedly licking her face, eliciting some of the sweetest giggles that Mordecai had ever heard.

“Scuto, look at the mess you’ve made of my tunic!” she said in faux exasperation. Mordecai noticed that her lips tugged up at the corners as she spoke. “What on Earth will Alma think?”

Scuto merely panted happily, lolling his tongue. The girl rolled her eyes. “Of course, you can’t understand me _–_ you’ve got too much fur stopping your ears _._ ” She laughed at her own joke. “If you had hands, I’d make you clean up your own mess _._ ”

“The damage doesn’t look too bad.”

As soon as he had spoken, Mordecai regretted it. He felt as though he had invaded her privacy. It was improper. The smile immediately dropped from her face and she scrambled to her feet, dislodging Scuto from her lap so fast that he whined. Her body language changed dramatically to a defensive position, hands clasped and head down, refusing to make eye contact.

“I am sorry, sir, I did not know you were there,” she said hurriedly, her cheeks burning red.

Mordecai wanted to kick himself. “Please – forgive me – I’m here to check on Flavia’s ankle. I heard you singing and I came to investigate.”

“I am sorry to disturb you.” Her eyes widened in embarrassment.

“No, no, please don’t apologise. It was beautiful. Marcella, wasn’t it?”

The girl looked up in surprise. “Yes – how did you…? Wait, do I know you?”

“Please, call me Mordecai.” There was a small silence. “You knocked on my door yesterday, looking for your brother-in-law.”

Her mouth opened in a small ‘o’ shape. “Of course! Now I remember… Flavia did mention that you bandaged her ankle.”

“Yes,” he agreed, unsure of what to say. For the first time he took in the colour of her eyes – a deep cornflower blue so unexpected that Mordecai was entranced for a second. He had never seen anyone with eyes quite like that before. He noticed that some of her upper-class mannerisms were returning after the shock; she held her back a little straighter, made her gaze more direct.

“Yes, well…” she said after a while, her instincts as a host kicking in. “I’m afraid you’ve missed Flavia – she’s gone out shopping with her father in celebration for her birthday. But I’m sure I could offer you some refreshments…?”

Mordecai bowed his head slightly. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you, madam…”

“No, it’s no inconvenience at all,” said Aurelia breezily, gliding towards the kitchen. Mordecai’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the way that her stola floated behind her like a shroud. “And please, call me Marcella. Alma!”

“Yes, ma’am?” came a voice from the kitchen. A few moments later, a plump, middle-aged woman emerged, flour on her cheek. She gave Mordecai a confused look before turning back to Aurelia.

“Could you prepare us some fruit? And some wine, if at all possible.”

“Of course, ma’am,” said Alma promptly. “I’ll have Avis bring it to you.”

“Thank you.” The housekeeper disappeared back into the kitchen and Aurelia turned once again to face her guest, a pleasant smile gracing her features. “Please, sit.”

She indicated to the stone bench facing the fountain where her scroll left discarded. Mordecai did as he was told, but could not resist picking the scroll up and reading a few lines. “Virgil.”

Aurelia raised an eyebrow as she sat down next to him, careful to leave a good few feet between them for propriety’s sake. “You have a good eye. Not many men could recognise it from a few lines.”

Mordecai felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach at her compliment, but he put it down to nerves. “You say that as though you’ve had experience.”

“Experience? Plenty,” Aurelia replied, not without a hint of sarcasm. “When you have as many suitors as I do, you learn to weed the truly clever from the loud fools.”

Mordecai wasn’t sure what to say in response, but thankfully he didn’t have to, because at that moment a young girl of around Aurelia’s age entered the courtyard carrying a tray of fruit and a jug of wine.

“Ah, Avis!” said Aurelia, her tone considerably more cheerful than it had been when discussing her suitors. “Just set it here.” She gestured to the space in between them. Avis set the tray down and poured them each a glass of wine. Mordecai thought to decline, but then decided against it. He didn’t want to seem rude. Aurelia took a sip.

“Hmmm,” she murmured, smacking her lips gently. “Not the best, but not the worst. Thank you, Avis. You can go now.”

“ _Domina_.”

The  _ancilla_  made her way back into the house, leaving Aurelia and her guest alone once again. “So, Mordecai, are you a doctor?”

“Uh, yes,” said Mordecai, relieved to be on familiar territory once more. “I practice from my home. When Jonathan – my son – brought Flavia to me, I was happy to help.”

Aurelia smiled. Something flickered through her eyes, though Mordecai couldn’t quite place it. “That’s very commendable of you. Flavia was ever so grateful. I think your son left quite the impression.”

“I think that the feeling was mutual,” said Mordecai softly, smiling slightly as he remembered how Jonathan had been unable to talk of anything but Aurelia’s young niece for the last three days. “Flavia is quite something.”

“You’re telling me!” said Aurelia jovially, picking up a date and holding it delicately between thumb and forefinger. “I haven’t seen her for  _years_  – I think the last time must have been when Cornix was promoted to senator – and I was fascinated to see what a strong young woman she’d become.”

Mordecai frowned as he watched Aurelia nibble the date. “Cornix?”

“Oh – my other brother-in-law. The less… palatable one.”

The doctor held back a laugh, not wanting to seem improper, though he got the distinct feeling that Marcella Aurelia wasn’t the type of person to mind. “So you’re related to Flavia through her mother’s side?”

Mordecai wasn’t sure what he had said wrong, but he knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he had. Aurelia’s face fell and she put down the peach slice that she had been bringing to her lips.

“Yes, I am. Through Myrtilla. She was my older sister.”

The doctor did not miss the significance of the past tense, and he quickly decided to change the subject.

“So where do you live when you’re not visiting family?”

Aurelia smiled faintly. “Rome, with my father. On the Aventine.”

It seemed to have worked as a distraction. Aurelia once again reached out for more fruit. Mordecai took a sip of his wine, mulling this information over. He tried to place her age. She was young, clearly, by her face and the fact she was unmarried and living with her father. However, she didn’t  _seem_  immature, or naïve. Then again, perhaps he shouldn’t be judging her over once conversation.

“What about you, doctor?” said Aurelia eventually, licking the peach juice from her fingers. “Where do you come from? Or have you always lived in Ostia?”

Mordecai knew that from his very accent the girl could tell he was not Roman, but he appreciated that she didn’t make any assumptions. There was a glint in her eyes that suggested she was intensely curious.

“Jerusalem, originally.” His voice was quieter now, as uncomfortable memories came flooding back. “Jonathan and Miriam – my children – were born there. But we moved here after the fall of the city.”

Aurelia cocked her head in interest, scrutinising his expression. He sensed that she could tell there was more to the story. He hoped that she wouldn’t ask.

Clearly he hoped for too much. “And their mother?” said Aurelia lightly, eyes still trained on his face. “She came too?”

Mordecai felt his throat close up slightly, though he forced himself to remain calm.  “No. Sadly, Susannah –” He took a deep breath. “Susannah died.”

There was another small silence. It was not as comfortable this time.

“Oh.”

Aurelia opened her mouth to say something, but Mordecai quickly cut her off. He did not like the look of pity she was giving him, and nor did he wish to discuss it any further. “Anyway, I must be going. I’m afraid I’ve just remembered I have a patient arriving shortly – but do give Flavia and her father my best, and wish her a happy birthday.”

He stood up so quickly that he almost upset the platter of fruit, though Aurelia managed to catch it just in time. He could tell that his behaviour was concerning her, but she said nothing as she stood herself, adjusting her stola subconsciously.

“Well,” she said, seemingly at a loss for words. “I hope I – we – might see you again soon?”

Mordecai’s smile was strained. “Perhaps. It was lovely talking to you, Lady Marcella.”

“Yes,” Aurelia replied quietly, “it was.”

She watched sadly as he bowed politely and retreated into the atrium, his dark robes billowing behind him.


	4. SCROLL IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are you doing this intentionally to provoke me?"  
> "Not intentionally, but it's always an added bonus."  
> ***  
> When Aurelia runs away from her uneventful life in Rome to live with her brother-in-law, she does not know what she is walking into. All she knows is that it is better than what she left behind. However, with a little help from the mysterious doctor who lives next door, and four children who never give up, Aurelia finds that sometimes true happiness is worth a little sacrifice.

“ _Father, we have a visitor._ ”

Mordecai looked up in surprise – they did not usually receive many guests that were not patients. He was even more surprised when he took in the slender, olive-skinned girl next to his daughter.

“Avis! Shalom. I was not expecting you.” He stood, determined to be polite. The slave-girl watched him with a guarded expression.

“Doctor Mordecai _,_ ” she said, though Mordecai noted her reluctance. Miriam was looking between them curiously, but after a pointed look from her father, she bowed out of the room. “My mistress sent me – Mistress Flavia has bought a new slave-girl from the market, but she has been treated badly and has sores on her neck where the chain rubbed. My mistress was hoping you could provide a soothing balm of some sort, to help relieve the pain _._ ”

Mordecai frowned. “Your mistress needs another slave-girl?”

Avis pursed her lips. “As I said, it is Mistress Flavia who bought the slave girl. And even if it was my  _domina,_ she is better with my mistress than the probable alternatives.”

Mordecai could not deny that, and there was a fierceness in Avis’ eyes that told him not to argue. “ _Miriam!_ ”

Miriam returned immediately, clearly eavesdropping in the corridor – Mordecai made a mental note to chastise her for it later. “ _Miriam, please can you fetch the aloe balm for Avis?_ ”

“ _Yes, father,_ ” she said quickly, shooting the slave-girl a glance before rushing out again.

“You will need to apply the balm with a sea sponge _,_ ” said Mordecai. Avis nodded. “I assume you have one?”

“ _Yes,_ ” said Avis.

Unsure what to do, Mordecai began ordering the loose sheets of parchment on his desk, but he couldn’t help but watch the slave-girl out of the corner of his eye. She was stood, rigid as a wooden plank, eyes fixed on the door through which Miriam would return at any moment. She was slim, but not naturally so, he concluded, undernourished through a slave’s diet, or possibly choice. He thought she could not be a day older than sixteen.

“ _Here you are, father._ ”

It was Miriam, back with the balm. Mordecai smiled at his daughter, the daughter he loved with all his heart, and took the balm, handing it to Avis. He wondered if somewhere out there Avis had a father who thought just as much of her as he did Miriam.

“Are you sure Lady Marcella wouldn’t like me to check the girl over myself?”

Avis shook her head adamantly. “It is best for a new slave to adjust to her new household slowly. Introducing her to another stranger, and an intimidating older man at that, would just upset her _._ ”

 _She thinks I’m intimidating,_  Mordecai thought, strangely hurt, but brushed it aside. “Very well. Shalom, Avis. Give your mistress my regards _._ ”

“Doctor Mordecai _._ ” Avis went to say goodbye to Miriam before realising she did not know the girl’s name, and simply bowed stiffly.

“Shalom,” said Miriam, still quietly inspecting Avis. Mordecai led Avis to the front door and watched her carry the balm next door before disappearing inside.

 

“Aunt Marcella, you don’t speak Greek, do you?”

Aurelia smiled faintly at her niece’s question as Avis set down the platter of bread and fruit in front of the two of them. “I do, my sweet. All good Roman girls should speak Greek.”

Flavia looked up, excited. “Oh, you must try and speak to Nubia! Oh,  _please_  Aunt Marcella, I so want to understand her…”

Aurelia pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, trying hard to avoid making any sudden movements – she did not want to spook the new slave-girl.

“I do not think she is fluent, but I could try…”

Flavia’s face lit up. “Oh, yes please!”

Aurelia breathed out lightly and turned to the girl, aware that Flavia was watching them both intently. “ _Hello, Nubia. My name is Lady Marcella Aurelia, and I am your mistress’ aunt. Your mistress would like to welcome you into her home._ ”

Nubia simply stared at her without any sign of recognition. Aurelia shook her head. “I am sorry, Flavia, but I think not.”

Flavia sighed. “Oh, I wish she spoke Latin. She knows a few phrases, but doesn’t understand them – and Greek, I’m certain she only knows a few words…”

“Do not worry, dear,” said Aurelia gently. “Avis?”

The  _ancilla,_ who was standing just a few feet away in case she was needed, looked up. “Yes,  _domina_?”

“Remember when you entered our home? It must have been two years ago… You did not speak a word of Latin.”

Avis nodded. “That is true,  _domina._  You taught me.”

Aurelia smiled in self-satisfaction. “See? Nubia will learn soon enough.”

Again, Flavia seemed to brighten. “That’s true – gosh, it was only two years ago, but you speak so well, Avis. Hang on, that means I’ve been studying Greek for as long as you’ve been learning Latin! I really need to start paying attention in my lessons.”

Aurelia smiled at her niece. “When Aristo returns, he can help you.”

She had heard a great deal about Flavia’s tutor from the young girl – it seemed that her niece had quite the crush. A small part of Aurelia couldn’t help but anticipate his return, though she feared what her father would say if he knew that she was staying in the same house as a young, eligible, Greek Adonis. A much larger part of her was too occupied by thinking about the tall and mysterious doctor next door.

Without warning, Nubia pointed to one of the dates on the platter of fruit. “ _Fruit,_ ” she whispered in tentative Greek.

Flavia looked thrilled. “Yes! That’s the Greek word for date,” she explained to Avis, who nodded to show she understood. “Do you want a date?  _Take one_!”

Nubia seemed shocked. Slowly, she reached out her hand and took a date, her face melting in pleasure at the taste.

“ _Have much_.  _Have big date_!”

Nubia carefully took another. Flavia caught sight of Avis staring hungrily at the fruit, and offered the platter to her. Avis shyly took a date, and a fond look of nostalgia covered her face as she bit into it.

 “Do they have dates where you came from, Avis?” said Flavia, jolting the slave out of her reverie.

“Yes, they do. Lots of dates.”

“Egypt is famous for them,” Aurelia mused, helping herself. “Goodness, I should like to go to Egypt.”

“You would?” asked Flavia curiously. “I didn’t know you wanted to travel.

“Oh, very much so. I should like to see Greece as well, and Jerusalem – and Britannia. That’s where my mother was born.”

Flavia was intrigued, but was distracted at the last moment when Nubia spoke again.

“ _Water!_ ” she exclaimed, pointing at the fountain. “ _I drink_?”

“Yes, yes, drink!” Flavia leaned forward and drank to demonstrate her point. Nubia followed suit. Aurelia saw the perfect opportunity to change the subject of the conversation to one she had been angling for the entire time.

“So, Flavia, your birthday party tonight… Will Jonathan be coming?”

Flavia blinked in confusion at the abrupt change of topic, but then nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes. Jonathan, and his family – Miriam and Doctor Mordecai.”

Aurelia felt her whole chest tighten slightly at his name, though she didn’t quite understand why. She nodded blithely, trying to pretend as though she didn’t care, even when she so clearly did. Ever since he had walked out on their conversation the other day, Aurelia had been desperate to have another opportunity to speak to him again, to understand why.

“That shall be fun. I shall have to make us some garlands, the way your mother taught me.”

Flavia smiled. “That would be nice.”

 

Mordecai carefully balanced the flower garland on top of his turban, ignoring the giggles of Flavia Gemina and his son. He knew it must look a little ridiculous, and he wasn’t usually inclined to do such a thing, but when Aurelia had offered it to him, her gentle, manicured hands holding it out, he had taken it without thinking. He watched her now as she made her way around the table, handing out the garlands that Flavia had made, taking extra care to be tender with Nubia. He found he could not take his eyes off her, and hoped that she was too busy reseating herself next to Marcus and pouring herself some wine to notice.

He kept up good conversation throughout the meal, and enjoyed the delicious food, but his gaze kept drifting back to her blonde curls, just brushing the top of her cheeks as she chatted animatedly with Miriam. It was only when people directly addressed him that he truly brought his attention to the party.

“Doctor Mordecai,” said Flavia, cutting up her roast chicken, “did you know that Aunt Marcella wants to visit Jerusalem some day?”

He smiled faintly, glancing at Aurelia – she had looked up at the sound of her name, and now her blue eyes met his. “I did not. A fine choice, if I may say so.”

Jonathan and Miriam – in fact, everyone on the table apart from Nubia – were now watching Aurelia with distinct curiosity.

Flavia swallowed her mouthful. “Yes, I didn’t know until this afternoon – and she wants to visit where her mother was born… Where was your mother from again, Aunt Marcella?”

Aurelia looked faintly embarrassed at all the attention, though she smiled faintly. “Britannia.”

“We’re from Jerusalem!” said Jonathan loudly. Mordecai frowned at him.

“Why did you leave?” said Marcus. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“The siege,” Mordecai said, trying not to remember. “The children were very young.”

Flavia turned to face her aunt. “Why did your mother leave Britannia, Aunt Marcella?”

“Now, Flavia…” said Marcus in a warning tone, but Aurelia interrupted him.

“She was a slave,” she replied quietly, but elaborated no further. A hush fell over the table, broken only by the sound of Aurelia pouring herself another glass of wine. Marcus quickly changed the subject to the most disgusting foods that they had all eaten, and Aurelia’s mother was forgotten – except, that is, by Mordecai.

It was a few drinks later that Mordecai found himself embroiled in a discussion with Marcus about the practicalities of running a house of eight people.

“It’s not easy, Mordecai,” said Marcus warily, staring at the bottom of his cup. “I could just about feed my daughter, her tutor, my sister-in-law and three slaves, but four? Four is a lot of work.” He sighed. “I’m not sure what to do… I shouldn’t have bought Nubia, of course, but Flavia seemed so determined to save her that I just couldn’t say no. But now there’s a struggle up ahead.”

The words were out of Mordecai’s mouth before his brain even had a chance to censor them. “You know, we have a spare room at our house.”

Marcus looked up, shocked. “Oh no, I couldn’t impose upon your family like that, it wouldn’t be right –”

“No, honestly,” said Mordecai’s mouth, again without his consent. “I would be happy to take one of your household in, free of charge. The Lord teaches us to be charitable, and I want to help.”

Marcus didn’t seem to know what to say. “I – thank you, Mordecai. That would be – you don’t understand how helpful that would be.”

“It’s no trouble – why not Lady Marcella? She’s a sweet girl, and I’m sure giving her some distance from Aristo once he returns wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I get the feeling she would settle into our home quite well. We could take Avis on as well – she could share a room with Miriam.”

Marcus followed Mordecai’s gaze back to his sister-in-law and sighed. “I – I don’t want to be rude or imply anything, Mordecai, but I must ask before I agree… You won’t make any advancements on her, will you?”

“W-what – I – Marcus –” stuttered Mordecai.

“I know, I know it sounds bad, but – she’s a very pretty girl, and I know, what with her being so charming and well-educated, it’s easy to fall into that trap. But she is of the  _praetorian_ class, and having broken tradition to marry Myrtilla, I can assure you that it is not easy sailing. She’s also only twenty-one. I know that’s of marriageable age, but I can imagine her father’s already got suitors planned, and he doesn’t need any more reason to dislike me –”

“Marcus,” said Mordecai more forcefully, putting down his glass of wine. “I swear, I have no intention of pursuing Lady Marcella. You’re right, she is very pretty, but I would never do something that would make her feel uncomfortable if she were living under my roof.”

Marcus watched him thoughtfully for a moment before clearly deciding that Mordecai was being genuine. He grinned. “When can you take her?”

“Whenever you need,” said Mordecai gently, watching her collect up the dirty dishes. While doing so, he caught sight of Jonathan with two leftover snails stuck up his nose, and cleared his throat disapprovingly. “With your permission, I think it’s time for us to take our leave.”

Marcus nodded. “Is tomorrow okay for you, or too soon?” he said under his breath.

“Tomorrow is fine.” He raised his voice so the whole table could hear him. “But before we leave, happy birthday, Flavia.” Reaching under his chair, he produced a leather scroll case. “It’s not new, I’m afraid. To tell the truth I have two sets, so I thought I could spare this one.”

Flavia beamed at him as she opened it to reveal a copy of  _The Aeneid_. “It’s the  _Aeneid_! It’s the very thing I wanted. And look at the beautiful illustrations!”

“Flavia?” prompted Marcus as the children gathered round to look at the pictures. “What do you say?”

“Oh! Thank you Doctor Mordecai, Jonathan, Miriam. It’s such a generous gift. Thank you! Look Nubia! I can help you learn Latin by reading this story to you.”

But when they all looked at the seat where Nubia had been, she was gone.


	5. SCROLL V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are you doing this intentionally to provoke me?"  
> "Not intentionally, but it's always an added bonus."  
> ***  
> When Aurelia runs away from her uneventful life in Rome to live with her brother-in-law, she does not know what she is walking into. All she knows is that it is better than what she left behind. However, with a little help from the mysterious doctor who lives next door, and four children who never give up, Aurelia finds that sometimes true happiness is worth a little sacrifice.

**_*** TRIGGER WARNING***_ **

**_Animal cruelty near the end. Unfortunately, it's a major plot point, so it can't be avoided :/_ **

“Oh I knew it would all be too much for her! She only came off the slave ship this morning!”

“Don’t worry – perhaps the food was too rich for her. She may be in the latrine,” Mordecai said in a calming tone, hoping to diffuse the situation.

“I shall check,” said Avis quietly. She glided out of the room, but returned only a few seconds later, alone, shaking her head.

Marcus frowned. “Let’s not panic. Jonathan, Miriam and Flavia, you check upstairs – Mordecai, Marcella and I will check downstairs, and Avis will check the kitchen. Then we will meet back at the household shrine.”

The three children rushed upstairs. Marcus leaned over to Mordecai and said quietly, “I know it is perhaps not the optimal moment, but this is one of the few times you and Marcella will be alone. You may want to discuss with her whether she wants to move to your house.”

Mordecai nodded slightly, his heart pounding in his chest. The thought of even managing to say one word to Marcella seemed like an impossible task in that moment.

“Right,” said Marcus, raising his voice so his sister-in-law could hear. “I will check the study – Marcella, help Doctor Mordecai search everywhere else on the ground floor.”

Aurelia nodded “Of course, Marcus. We’ll start with the courtyard.”

If she was nervous about being alone with Mordecai, she did not show it. “Follow me,” she said, once Marcus was out of earshot in the study, and they began to scour every inch of the garden.

Mordecai knew he should mention her moving in with him, but he was very nervous to broach the subject in case she became spooked. However, as she walked quietly through the trees, her pale face illuminated in the moonlight, Mordecai managed to force out a sentence.

“Your brother-in-law has asked that I take you in _._ ”

She stopped dead in her tracks. “Excuse me?”

“Your brother-in-law asked that I let you live in my spare room, as he can’t afford to house and feed four slaves, a tutor for Flavia and a guest _._ ”

Aurelia’s eyes were inscrutable as they looked up to face Mordecai’s own. “So I would be your guest?”

“Yes,” said Mordecai quietly. He realised they were stood very close to each other, although she was a good head and shoulders shorter than him. He could see the freckles on the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks. “You would still have access to Marcus’ home whenever you pleased, only you would eat and sleep next door with us. You would be under no obligation to spend time with us other than was necessary _._ You could stay in your room the whole time you were there if you wished _._ ”

Aurelia watched him thoughtfully. “It’s not really my choice. I don’t wish to impose on Marcus if he does not want me here. And if you don’t have any problem with it, then it makes sense _._ ”

Mordecai felt rising frustration fill him. “It’s not that Marcus doesn’t want you. In fact, I suggested that you stay with us. I would like to know if you want to, or whether I should take Caudex instead _._ ”

“You cannot take Caudex. He must be near the door at all times in case of visitors. Alma would never leave the Geminus house, and Nubia has only just arrived. By taking me, I assume you are also taking Avis as well, thereby relieving Marcus of two mouths to feed. It makes sense that you should take me, so I will go with you.”

It wasn’t the validation that Mordecai had hoped for, but he supposed it was something. Aurelia turned away from him.

“We should return to the shrine – Nubia is not here _._ ”

That appeared to be all she had to say. She led on, and Mordecai followed her back to the atrium, where the others had collected. Flavia looked at them hopefully, but when she saw Nubia was not with them, she hung her head.

“Before we begin the search outside,” said Marcus gravely, taking off his flower crown, “have we checked every room?”

“Yes,” said everyone.

“No,” said Caudex. Everyone looked at him. “Scuto is still shut up in the storeroom. He was whining and scratching to be let out, but –”

“Yes?” cried the children.

“Then he went very quiet.”

Without waiting to hear anymore, everyone ran to the storeroom and gathered around the doorway, looking inside. In the dim evening light, they were just able to make out the shapes of the storage jars on the floor, and what looked like a mound in the middle of the room.

“I think I see him,” said Marcus. “Bring a lamp.”

Avis rushed back to the dining room and returned with a small lamp. Marcus held it out into the storeroom, and exclaimed, “Great Neptune’s beard!”

There, in the middle of the room, snuggled up next to Scuto, was Nubia, fast asleep. She had placed her flower garland on the dog’s head. He looked up lazily at the group of people watching him, but soon went back to sleep.

 

“Oh, Aunt Marcella, I’m going to miss you so much!”

Aurelia smiled warily, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, Flavia, you will have much more fun with Nubia.”

“Nonsense, Aunt Marcella, I shall miss you terribly.”

Jonathan grinned. “Don’t worry Marcella, you’re going to have way more fun at my house. Miriam is a great cook.”

Flavia scowled at him. They were walking up to the docks in order to see Flavia’s father off – he was going on a sea voyage. As a merchant, this was something he did fairly frequently.  Flavia, Nubia, Jonathan and Aurelia were walking at the back of the group, with Scuto trailing behind. Marcus, Mordecai, and Marcus’ business partner, Cordius, were at the front. In the middle, Miriam was chatting quietly to Cordius’ freedman, Libertus.

When they returned home, Aurelia would be moving in to Mordecai’s spare room; this was what Flavia and Jonathan were so eager to discuss. Aurelia, however, was zoning in and out of the conversation. She found that her eyes kept drifting to a few feet ahead where Mordecai was walking, focusing not on whatever Jonathan and Flavia were saying, but on the way that his dark robes billowed behind him. When he had asked whether she wanted to move, she had acted aloof, but really there had been a bubble of excitement in her heart. She had told herself it was at the idea of having more space to herself, more independence, and to an extent it was – but there was something else.

She tried to place what exactly it was that she was feeling, but the correct term eluded her. All that Aurelia knew for certain was that it was quite unlike anything she had ever felt before. From the first moment she had laid eyes upon the doctor, she had been both drawn to him and cripplingly shy, something she was not used to. Cornelia had always been the sister with the nervous constitution – and yet, here she was, terrified that Mordecai would turn around and catch her staring, but at the same time willing him to, so that she might meet his gaze again. Perhaps it was the fact he was so unlike the men she had known from Rome… Yes, that was probably it, she assured herself as she felt her stomach tighten at the sight of his smile as he talked to Cordius. Curiosity.

“Aunt Marcella? Aunt Marcella, are you alright?”

Aurelia jumped at the sound of her niece’s voice. “Sorry, I must have drifted off.”

She looked around, and noticed they had reached the docks. Flavia rolled her eyes. “Honestly Aunt Marcella, sometimes I think you spend most of your time in another world.”

“Time for me to go,” said Marcus, coming to stand with his daughter. “You know I’m a little worried about your safety since that incident with the dogs. Your tutor isn’t here to look out for you this month, Caudex can be terribly slow, and I don’t know what Alma would do to protect you against a pack of wild dogs, or even kidnappers…”

“Don’t worry pater, I’m not alone. Doctor Mordecai and Aunt Marcella will be just next door and I have Jonathan and Nubia to keep me company now. And there’s Scuto.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes. The fierce watchdog. Well, if I hear you’ve been in the least danger, I’m packing you off to my brother’s the next time I go on a voyage!”

“Don’t worry, pater. Jonathan and I will sit quietly in the garden all day and take turns reading the  _Aeneid_ to Nubia. We’re teaching her Latin.”

“Good good…” He gave Flavia one last hug before gently pulling Aurelia to the side. “Now, Marcella – I know you’ll be perfectly at home in Doctor Mordecai’s house, but if you feel uncomfortable at any point, no questions will be asked if you come back to live with us.”

“Thank you,” said Aurelia quietly, shooting him a small smile. “But I am sure I will be fine. He is a kind man, after all.”

“I know, but I meant what I said. We won’t question you if you decide you’d rather stay with us.”

Aurelia smiled with genuine affection for her brother-in-law. “That is very kind of you to say. I shall keep it in mind.”

Marcus patted her arm gently before boarding his ship.

 

It was the afternoon by the time the party was making its way back home to Green Fountain Street, and somehow Aurelia found herself walking in step with Mordecai. Libertus had left the docks earlier than everyone else, busy with some last-minute errands for Cordius, so Miriam was walking up ahead with Flavia, Jonathan and Nubia. That left Aurelia desperately trying to look ahead and not at the man next to her – his presence put her strangely on edge.

“So, Lady Marcella, will you need to pick up your things?” said Mordecai softly, causing Aurelia to jump slightly at the sound of his voice.

“Yes, I suppose I will,” she said quietly, biting her lip. “I hadn’t thought.”

Mordecai looked at her blankly. “You hadn’t thought to bring your things?”

“No… I’ll have Avis bring them over, or perhaps Caudex if the bags are too heavy.”

Mordecai fell quiet, and Avis’ cheeks burned with embarrassment. She opened her mouth to say something – try to defend her own stupidity – but before she could they were interrupted by Jonathan’s voice, raised and filled with fear.

“Father, the door’s open!”

Aurelia didn’t need to see his face to know that Mordecai had noticed the drops of blood that led up the street towards his house. His whole body seemed to tense up next to her, and she heard his breath hitch in his throat. Aurelia herself was transfixed by the blood, unable to tear her eyes away.

“Don’t go in, there may be robbers still in the house!”

The tone of his voice was calm, shockingly so under the circumstances. Aurelia thought fleetingly in the back of her mind that it must be a talent that all doctors possess. However, Jonathan had already rushed inside, ignoring his father completely, and causing Mordecai to curse under his breath.

“Lady Marcella, stay here,” he said firmly before he made his way towards the house. Miriam too ran inside, leaving Nubia, Flavia and Aurelia standing uncertain on the street.

Jonathan returned first, his whole face drained of colour, before being violently sick in the middle of the road. The three girls all involuntarily stepped back, their noses wrinkling in disgust.

“Stay back everyone,” Mordecai began, trying to regain control of the situation, but was cut off by his daughter’s blood-curdling scream.

“He’s dead,” Miriam sobbed. Mordecai, unable to wait any longer, disappeared inside. The three girls and Scuto moved to follow him, but Jonathan blocked their path, his face grave.

“It’s our watchdog, Bobas,” he murmured. “You don’t want to look. Someone has cut off his head and taken it away.”


	6. SCROLL VI

If Aurelia prided herself on one thing, it was her level head in a crisis. That was why, after the commotion of that morning, the first thing she set out about doing was trying to remove the bloodstain from the floor.

Jonathan, Nubia and Flavia were in Flavia’s garden, fervently discussing what had happened and trying to deduce what they could. Mordecai, after burying the body, had decided to take Miriam to stay with relatives across town, as she seemed much too perturbed to stay in the house. Aurelia was therefore left alone, and had concluded that the best thing she could do was try to clean up the mess.

She could have avoided it completely, of course, as the others had – perhaps waiting with the younger children until they had all calmed down enough to be rational. She could even have asked Avis, but the poor girl had never been any good with blood, and the last thing she needed was her _ancilla_ to faint.

Really, a lady of the house shouldn’t be doing such a thing at all, but Aurelia was a little grittier than most about gruesome situations such as these, and she knew what the family needed most now was someone to do the dirty work for them. It turned Aurelia’s stomach to think she was cleaning up the blood of a dog that had been so playful and alive only hours before; she dreaded to think how Mordecai would cope should he be the one forced to do so.

Her hands were raw from scrubbing by the time she heard the soft footsteps signalling Mordecai’s return, not used to such hard labour. Even though she knew it was him, Aurelia jumped, still shaken. Mordecai stopped in his tracks, not expecting to see her. His dark eyes were clouded with sorrow.

“Lady Marcella? What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse. Aurelia quickly placed the scrubbing brush down, keeping her gaze on the floor instead of his face.

“I thought you would not want to clean this all up by yourself, so I did it for you.”

Mordecai’s eyebrows furrowed; he looked almost angry. “Lady Marcella, I thought I made it perfectly clear that while you are in my house you are not to feel compelled to lift even a finger on my family’s behalf. I should have done this myself – you should not have to be put through such a thing…”

Aurelia quailed at the tone of his voice, but remained firm. “I didn’t do it out of a sense of duty. I did it because I wanted to save you distress,” she said quietly, daring a quick glance up at him. The frustration, or whatever it was that had been stirring in his eyes, seemed to drain out of his face at her words, to be replaced with a sudden weariness.

“My apologies, I should not have spoken so harshly,” he said solemnly. “You were simply trying to be kind, and I attacked you for it – forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. Besides, the stain’s lifted,” Aurelia replied, standing up at last. Her back had seized slightly, and she gave a little yelp, though she quickly tried to mask it with a yawn. Mordecai was not to be fooled, however.

“Your back,” he said in a worried voice, frowning as he moved forward to steady her arm. “You’ve hurt it.”

Aurelia smiled ruefully. “My own fault – I shouldn’t have done this really, I should have asked Avis… it’s just the girl is so squeamish about this sort of thing, and I know you don’t really approve of slaves.”

Mordecai wondered for a second how she could possibly have known that – he had thought he had been reasonably quiet about his views – but then his eyes widened in understanding. “Avis told you.”

Aurelia nodded. “Indeed. I hear you were quite – how can I phrase it? – _disapproving_ of Flavia’s purchase of Nubia.”

“Is it so wrong to disapprove of the buying and selling of fellow human beings?” was his quick response as he assisted Aurelia over to the divan.

She eyed him thoughtfully as she eased herself into the seat, wincing ever so slightly. “You have such an odd view of the world.”

Mordecai shook his head sadly. “When your people have been enslaved, you see things a little differently.”

Aurelia was about to open her mouth to argue that, being the daughter of a slave, she thought she understood quite well, but was cut off by a stabbing pain in the base of her spine. “Oh Juno…”

Mordecai looked on anxiously. “I’ll get some balm – it should ease the pain. You’re not to do even a moment’s physical labour until that’s healed, do you understand?”

“Such a hardship…” Without thinking, she winked. Mordecai paused for a moment, unsure of how to react. Eventually, he shot her a small smile before slipping out of the room and into the pantry.

Aurelia let out a breath she didn’t even know she had been holding as soon as he disappeared through the doorway. Unsure how to occupy herself now he was gone, and having been banned from cleaning anymore, she decided to inspect the study from her seat. It was a colourful room, with a divan running along three of the four walls. On the last wall were shelves filled with scrolls, in front of which sat a fairly organised, though distinctly cluttered desk. The whole space smelt familiar, though she couldn’t place the scent.

“I’m afraid Flavia used the last of my Syrian balm, so I’ve only got the Greek.” Mordecai’s voice drifted into the room before he did, but his physical self soon followed, carrying a small pot. “Usually I’d apply it myself, but for… uh… decency’s sake…”

Aurelia blushed, and quickly took the pot from him. “I’m sure I can cope on my own. Thank you, it’s – very kind.”

Mordecai looked flustered, but nodded. “You’ll need to apply it twice a day – once before bed and once when you wake up.”

“I’m sure I can manage that.”

He watched her cautiously for a few moments before sitting next to her on the divan, careful to leave a respectable gap between them.

“Now, Lady Marcella –” he began, but she quickly cut off.

“I know exactly what you’re about to say, Mordecai, and I won’t have it,” she said brusquely, folding her hands in her lap. “I’m moving in here, and that is the end of that. Avis is packing my things while we speak.”

“But Lady Marcella, it’s dangerous –”

Aurelia scoffed. “No more dangerous than living next door – after all, your door is just the same as Marcus’. Now, if you’re quite done trying to convince me otherwise, I’d love it if you could show me my room.”

The doctor didn’t seem won over, but he relented, and gently helped her to her feet. He held out his hand, indicating that she should make her way towards the courtyard – but Aurelia, intentionally or not, seemed to misunderstand, and instead took his arm, resting her hand in the crook of his elbow. Mordecai was much too embarrassed to correct her, so awkwardly led her through the garden and up the stairs, trying to ignore the strong scent of lemons that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

“Oh, how beautiful!” he heard her whisper as they walked through the door into his spare room. Mordecai, however, couldn’t help but feel slightly ashamed. The space looked shabby with such a well put together woman standing in the middle of it.

“I’m sorry that it’s not quite up to the standards you’re used to –” he began, but was quickly rebuffed.

“Oh, I do wish everyone would stop saying that!” she sighed, detaching herself from his arm at last and wandering over to the window. “You all seem to have this assumption that I’m some great snob.”

Mordecai knew he had upset her, but he wasn’t quite sure how to fix it. Nevertheless, he slowly approached her side and joined her in looking out over the garden. He wondered if she was comparing it to Captain Geminus’ next door – there were no peach and fig trees here. Instead there were date palms and ferns, things that reminded the doctor of his homeland.

“I didn’t mean to imply that,” he said softly. “Forgive me, I haven’t had a guest stay in my home since I left Jerusalem, and I… My children and I, we live within our means, and we are content, but now that Susannah is no longer with us…”

He found that he couldn’t go on, and fell quiet – yet it appeared he had repaired the damage somewhat. If there had been any tension before, it dissipated at the mention of his wife. He thought it showed a great amount of maturity that she did not press him for more details; instead she ran a hand along the wall and smiled slightly.

“I do love this colour – in fact, I think it’s my favourite.”

This was ironic, as the colour really didn’t suit her complexion at all. The warm, yellow undertones clashed with her fair features, making her look rather washed out. Still, Mordecai thought the genuine warmth in her eyes more than made up for that.

***

“Oh, Avis, do be careful of the wet patch on the floor, that’s where –” Aurelia paused, noticing how Mordecai tensed next to her. “Well, just be careful. We don’t want you slipping!”

“I do wish you would let me assist you,” the doctor said gently as he guided Aurelia’s _ancilla_ through the house, but Avis shot him a disdainful look around the bags piled high in her arms.

“Sir, I am perfectly capable.”

Mordecai shook his head in slight annoyance. “I’m not saying you’re not capable…” But he caught sight of Aurelia’s raised eyebrows and decided to leave the sentence open-ended.

“It’s just up here, Avis,” said her mistress blithely. “Along the balcony to the left, and then immediately in front of you…”

The _ancilla_ moved quickly and entered the room, giving it a disapproving survey as she set down the bags and began to unpack. Aurelia watched the younger girl with faint amusement – she could sense the displeasure radiating from her. “Something wrong, Avis?”

Avis sniffed. “It is very small, _domina_. Aren’t you missing the Aventine by now?”

Aurelia tried to mask the small smile that was tugging at her lips. “Perhaps. But I’m afraid that all the beautiful marble and manicured courtyards in the world couldn’t make up for good company.” Her eyes drifted over to Mordecai, and blue met deep brown for a moment. Then she turned back to the _ancilla_. “However, should you decide that you dislike it here, I am more than happy to send you back to _pater_ – I would hate to keep you somewhere against your will.”

Aurelia could tell that Mordecai found that rather ironic, but she ignored him. Avis seemed appalled at the very suggestion.

“But _domina_ , my place is with you!”

“Very well, very well! In which case, Doctor Mordecai, could you show Avis to her room? You’ll be sharing with Miriam, though you’ll have the space to yourself for a bit whilst she’s staying with her aunt…”

Mordecai, with a small inclination of his head, indicated that Avis should follow him, which she did, if a little reluctantly. They made quite a strange pair: him, tall and robed in black; her, slender but petite in a simple white tunic. But something about it felt right. A strange warmth washed over her as she stood watching, and suddenly realised what that feeling was.

It was the feeling of being home.

**Author's Note:**

> All characters belong to the wonderful Caroline Lawrence, apart from Aurelia :) I have tried to be as historically accurate as possible, but if you think something is wrong, leave me a comment!!


End file.
